The Empty Life
by AgarJelly
Summary: Harry Potter has never had many friends, but he never quite understood why. From Halloween 1981 onwards, Harry's life has changed forever, but whether that change was for the better or worse is up for speculation: he's inordinately masterful in the art of deduction, like his Godfather, but he doesn't quite understand emotion the same as everyone around him. Magical AU.


**The Empty Life**

Story for reader-reader2 (thank you for the prompt and for being the epitome of patience - you're amazing!) :)

*Warnings: Magical AU based on canon; Harry with Sherlockian traits; Sirius has similar characteristics to my Sirius in "A Study In Black".

*Disclaimer: Harry Potter is life, but it isn't mine.

* * *

 **Chapter 1: Halloween**.

There was a loud crack.

Lily's eyes immediately shot up from where she was stood in Harry's bedroom, over the infant's cot. She was frozen to the spot, staring at the bedroom door, waiting for a sound, hint, a whisper of movement. Harry was gripping her finger with his chubby hand, gurgling softly, but she could not indulge him. She could hear shuffling downstairs.

Instinct told her to reach for her wand, which was currently holding her hair up in a messy bun. She pulled it out perfectly with a single, brisk movement of her hand, crimson hair falling out of place and filling her vision with strands of red. Lily irritably flourished her wand to tie her hair back in place, cheeks flushed and pupils dilated.

'James?!' She called out, voice urgent, but nervous.

Silence. She fidgeted her fingers along her wand in order to maintain a strong grip, trying to prevent the feel of sweat on her palm from distracting her. She opened her mouth to call her husband again, but suddenly...

'Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off —'

'Shit...' Her worst fear had come to life. Lily could not let it consume her though. She hastily picked Harry up, who had stopped gurgling and was now befuddled by the change in his mother's aura, before she ran to the door, wand in hand.

'So what if I don't have my wand?' She heard her husband's voice echo, along the hallway and up the stairs. She detected a hint of fear behind James' sardonic tone.

 _Idiot!_

A chill was sent up her spine, as she heard Voldemort laugh, mockingly, in response.

'I can still punch your stupid nose off!' That stopped the laughter.

'Oh, James...' Lily sighed.

She had no time to chastise James' foolhardiness, though. She had to get herself and Harry out of the house. James was not about to die in vain - she shook her head to push the disturbing thought of her husband's imminent death out of her mind; she had to concentrate. She contemplated her options: she could not apparate with a baby, it would be too perilous. She couldn't fight her way out - going into hiding had made her duelling skills rusty. She had only one option: flying.

'Accio!'

She could hear the whizzing sound of the broom, as it travelled from hers and James' bedroom across the upstairs hallway, while she searched for the baby papoose her mother had given to her when Harry was born. She strapped the infant in securely, against her chest. Thus far, the infant had been rather quiet, as his mother dropped her veil of amiability and took control of the situation in a serious manner. It was almost as if he understood what was happening/

'OH, WAIT! Looks like I did that last time we met!' It was James' turn to laugh mockingly at Voldemort. However, there was a break in his voice, an acceptance that he knew he wasn't getting out of this situation alive.

Lily caught the broom.

'Enough.' Voldemort hissed. 'Avada Kedavra!'

A flash of green light was projected through the whole house. Lily looked up towards the open doorway, as the light illuminated the walls opposite, silhouetting the bannister of the stairs. Time was running out. Lily rushed to close the bedroom door; she knew that she could not waste any time mourning her husband – she could do that later, when Harry was safe. She ran to open the window above Harry's cot. It took more effort than usual, as James had installed a magic lock on the window, preventing the use of magic to open it.

 _James_...

Lily did not concede. The stiff wood dug into her fingers, as the glass lifted up, and hit the top of the frame with loud crash, instigating fresh tears to appear in Harry's eyes. He began to cry out, tremors of shock and terror rippling through his tiny body. Lily heard the stairs creak as Voldemort ascended the stairs, finally knowing where they were hiding.

'Don't worry, love.' Lily soothed in her maternal voice, though she could not deny the hint of fear was present in her own, shaky tone. 'It'll be all right...' She mounted her broom, and took off, through the large, traditional window. 'Look, Harry! We're flying, just like you and Daddy used to, when he thought I hadn't noticed.'

'Fly!' Harry exclaimed, happily, the cold drying his tears, as he observed the sights below him with curious interest.

The wind howled through their ears, similar to that of Remus's wolf. When they were at a distance where they could not be reached by the malevolent wizard, Lily chanced a look back at her house. Simultaneously, with this movement, a pair of scarlet eyes appeared at the window, and the pallid face of Lord Voldemort was twisted in deep vexation. He seemed to roar, almost inhumanly at the knowledge that they had escaped his clutches.

 _I'll find you!_

White noise filled Lily's mind; the sound of the wind was nothing compared to this agony. She wanted to cover her ears at the excruciating pain, but she could not take her hands off her broom. She must have been screaming though, for in the background, she could hear that Harry had begun wailing again, calling for his mummy and tugging on her muggle jumper in desperation for her to stop. Lily could have sworn that his cries were miles away, but the gradually decreasing heat his tiny body gave out grounded her.

 _I'll hunt you down, Lily Potter. I will find you, and I will kill your son._

'You. Will. NOT!' She bellowed, teeth clenched, eyes screwed shut. 'NOT HARRY! YOU WILL NEVER, NEVER HURT HARRY!' She drew her wand and pointed it directly behind her, not looking at her target, 'BOMBARDA!'

She did not look back to see if the spell had hit, but instead drove through the pain Voldemort inflicted upon her, and sped off into the fog, deep into the ebony night. She heard the sound of an explosion, distantly, and the ringing in her ears stopped. Lily sighed in relief, as they continued to fly away from the remains of the Potters' house, away from Voldemort and away from the body of her beloved husband. The tears in her eyes matched Harry's, as he continued to sob uncontrollably.

She quickly placed an admittedly weak heating charm on him and stroked his back, soothingly.

'I'm sorry I scared you, hun. It's alright now, we're going to be okay.'

But where could she go? Remus was on a mission; Peter will have gone into hiding – _Peter... that RAT!_

The answer was obvious, but life was never that easy.

'Oh no...' She breathed, 'They think it's his fault.

'Sirius!'

* * *

A loud roar was emitted from the room, followed by a large crash as the wall shattered into a pile of rubble. The figure, cloaked in black, with scarlet eyes disapparated.

 _'_ Voldemort?'

Sirius could have sworn he had just seen the wizard staring out of what used to be a window, where the Potters' bedroom should have been... Harry's bedroom. He must have done. His eyes would never betray him.

The animagus had only been in the area to play 'innocent' pranks on the children dressing up for Halloween, seeing as Remus was on his mission, Peter was visiting his mum before going into hiding and the Potters' were already in hiding, of course. But a house had appeared out of nowhere, and Sirius recognised it instantly.

 _The Potters' house..._ He thought, _Wait a minute, I can see it... That must mean-_

'NO!'

Sirius ran at the house, not caring who or what could be lurking around; disregarding all his principles that one must observe everything in their surroundings. He had to see his friends; his family, to see if they were okay; to see if they were Alive.

To his horror, when he got there, the front door was already open, but there was no sign of an obvious break in. Voldemort, obviously partial to magic, had caught them unaware. _Coward_.

The dim street light from behind Sirius elongated his shadow, which fell upon a black figure spread out across the floor of the hallway. Sirius felt the blood drumming in his ears. The figure's glasses wear still on his face, albeit slightly wonky, as he stared up at the ceiling, hazel eyes dark and unmoving. His hair was just as messy as ever – although it was slightly greasy – and he was clad in his old Gryffindor jersey and black jeans. A dressing gown was also laid a few metres away from where James was, which led Sirius to infer that he was on his way to have a shower as he discovered Voldemort.

But that was never going to happen.

Time seemed to reach a standstill for Sirius. He threw himself forward and collapsed to his knees, beside the body of his best friend, his brother. Sirius reached his arms out towards James, but kept hesitating, not wanting it to real. Eventually though, he managed to touch his friend's cheek, there was still had a hint of warmth to his skin, which told Sirius that he had not been dead for long.

 _Dead_...

Sirius held James in his arms, cradling him like one would an infant.

'Prongs...'

No answer.

'Prongs!' He shook James' limp body, in a foolish attempt to bring his friend back to life. 'Jamie... Please...' Tears fell onto the pallid face of James Potter and Sirius broke down, rocking. 'Oh James, I'm sorry!' He sobbed. 'I'm so so sorry! I killed you... It should've been me! Oh, it should've been me! It's all my fault! I killed you and Lily and Harry, and I'm sorry-'

The crying momentarily stopped.

'Lily and Harry?' Sirius looked up at the stairs with morbid curiosity. _Stupid! How had I not realised sooner?!_ He knew he had a duty, that Lily and Harry must be somewhere in the house and he had to find them. James would not have wanted him to neglect his family to mourn him, he knew, but it did not make Sirius want to budge from where he was, broken and sobbing, any less.

It didn't matter what Sirius wanted through. Because if it did, then James would still be alive.

Lily and Harry might still be alive though, and that was what counts. He could mourn his brother later. He kissed James on the forehead and gently rested his head back onto the ground, hanging onto his best friend for as long as he could, before reluctantly rising to his feet. Sirius then, wiping the tears from his cheeks with his knuckles and sniffing, tentatively advanced towards the stairs, wand in hand, ready.

He entered Harry's bedroom, where he had seen Voldemort disapparate. It was now a mess of toys, wood from the broken crib, rubble from the wall and glass from where a window once was. Voldemort had completely destroyed the room.

But wait...

Voldemort could not have fired that spell. The spell hit the window first – as the most damage came from where that part of the wall had been – which must have caused the rest of the room to fall apart. If Voldemort had done it, this whole room would no longer be here. The spell was therefore cast from outside, which implies that someone had escaped. Balance of probability: Lily had escaped.

But Sirius could not heighten his expectations, so he searched for Lily and Harry anyway, but to no avail. It wasn't problematic for Sirius to work out that they weren't likely to be anywhere else in the house, and for each minute he spent searching, a minute was lost for Sirius to catch the rat that did this. He had to trust that Lily had got herself and Harry out safely. The moral side of him told him that he had to continue searching for them, just in case they were hiding. But his side of reason said that he had a better chance of finding Peter alive than he did of finding Lily and Harry.

It was all the rat's fault, and once Sirius had an idea in his head there was no stopping him.

Anger consumed him and he disapparated to the street outside Peter's mother's home, the only logical place Sirius thought Peter would be at this time. As the mist of Halloween night cleared his vision, Sirius looked around and instantly recognised a shadow that was sneaking away from the Pettigrew house as if every step could set a grenade off from under them. However, there was a certain air about the shadow that resonated calmness; his shoulders were relaxed, as if he possessed a certain amount of power, confidence, despite his instinctual fear.

'Wormtail.' Sirius spat.

The shadow spun around in alarm; the light from Sirius's Lumos fell upon the figure's face to reveal the Rat. Peter's face seemed to have aged ten years since Sirius had last seen him: his watery blue eyes had bags beneath them, so large that they nearly matched Remus's. Sagging skin that once was puppy fat hung around Peter's jaw, making his jugular all the more prominent; and frown lines had appeared between his brow, which were partially covered by loose hair, which had not been washed for several days. Sirius deduced that it was guilt and stress that caused this change in appearance, not the Cruciatus curse. But Peter's thin lips twisted into a half smile, which juxtaposed Sirius's idea that Peter felt any sort of remorse. Sirius growled.

'Padfoot.' The rat answered, mockingly.

'You betrayed us.'

'Brilliant observation skills there, Sirius. Anything else?'

'You're going to pay for what you did, Peter.' Sirius's voice shook with emotion, vexation being the most prominent.

'Am I?'

Sirius caught a glimpse of Peter's wand, which he had hidden behind his back, but by the time he had realised the rat's plan, it was too late.

'SIRIUS, HOW COULD YOU?!'

'No, stop that!'

'YOU KILLED THEM ALL! LILY AND JAMES! HARRY! LITTLE BABY HARRY! HOW COULD YOU, SIRIUS!' He was screaming so loud, Muggles were starting to walk towards them.

'Peter, don't you bloody dare! DONT, GET BACK! YOU NEED TO LEAVE!'

But the Muggles did not listen.

'AND NOW YOU'RE GOING TO KILL ME!'

'SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!' Sirius roared; he ran at Peter, but it was all in vain.

Using a silent incantation, Peter waved his wand and the street behind him exploded, emitting a deadly glow that turned the buildings, as well as the innocent Muggles into ash. The force of the explosion threw Sirius back, into a brick wall. The wind was knocked out of him, as he sunk to the ground, panting; ears ringing. Somehow, Peter had managed to maintain his footing, as the caster of the spell. He now held his wand in front of him and walked – almost strutted – up to Sirius and shadowed over him. He reached into his pocket with his other hand, and pulled out a knife.

'Is that supposed to scare me?' Eyes narrowed, Sirius spat out blood from having bitten his tongue when he hit the wall. The red fluid landed at Peter's feet, spraying his shoes.

The rat stared at the scarlet momentarily, before looking into Sirius's irate, grey eyes.

'Yes.'

Peter brought the knife down onto his own hand, tearing the flesh from the palmar distal crease and removing his finger from his hand. Blood erupted from the wound at an alarming rate. Sirius watched with horror as Peter staggered back, clutching his bloody hand. His whines and squeals reminded Sirius of Peter's animagus form.

Mouth agape, Sirius looked into those beady blue eyes and saw triumph. Peter smirked, eerily, before he transformed, his head becoming a gross hybrid of his human and rat form between the change, and his hands shrinking to become wrinkly and dark pink. Once the transition was complete, the rat vanished.

Sirius used the wall to support him, as he stumbled to his feet and searched for the rat. He heard the scratching of feet on concrete, before he caught the sight of a small black figure running into the smoke, towards the grate in the road, leading to the sewers.

In the distance, he heard laughing. It wouldn't stop. It sounded delirious. He looked around for the source. It echoed, filling his still ringing ears with the most awful sound. It was only when he tried to scream did he realise that he was in fact the one that had been cackling and was now screaming with laughter, not dissimilar to his cousin, Bellatrix's deranged laughter. After this revelation, Sirius could not stop. He laughed until he was bent over and then he laughed some more. He wasn't sure what was funny, but laughing was all he could do.

He had lost everyone.

 _It should've been me. I should've died instead..._

He was still laughing when the Aurors came.

* * *

Lily landed on her feet with a gentle thud. The rain-soaked grass was freezing on her bare feet, but she could hardly feel it for her whole body was shivering. Harry was also cold, despite Lily's heating charm; when the wind and rain started to hit them full force, it was difficult to operate a broom, a wand and and infant during a downpour.

She dismounted her broom and ran to the abandoned cottage that she knew Sirius was currently staying in. She felt the air grow thicker as she passed through the safety charms she had helped Sirius install, and knocked loudly on the door with her numb hands.

No answer.

'SIRIUS!'

No answer.

'PA'FOOT!' Harry yelled, recognising his Godfather's name.

'Looks like Uncle Sirius isn't home, hun.' Lily told the infant, who promptly frowned, petulantly. Lily was frowning too, but instead with confusion. She looked at the door, contemplating what to do. 'But we'll just stay here for a bit and warm ourselves up, eh? Maybe Padfoot will come back soon!'

'Yay!' Harry squealed.

The cottage was consumed in darkness when the pair entered. She tried the light switches, but obviously there was no electricity, as the cottage was meant to be abandoned. Lily sighed in exasperation at her own inattentiveness.

'Lumos.'

They wandered into the front room, where she started a fire burning in the fireplace with a quick flourish of her wand. The crimson flames illuminated the room, proving to Lily that Sirius was, indeed, inhabiting the place. She noticed a scrapbook containing pictures of herself and the rest of the Marauders was visible from its position on a wooden coffee table in the centre of the room. While the table had looked like it had seen better days, the scrapbook was kept pristine, albeit slightly worn-in, as all cherished books should be.

Next to the coffee table was a burgundy sofa, upon which Lily placed Harry, careful to keep him away from the areas where the seams had come undone. She then, for good measure, cast a stronger heating charm over her son first, then on herself, before she removed the papoose fully.

Harry let out a surprised laugh at the sudden warmness, then spontaneously yawned. Lily smiled and went back to the fireplace.

'You don't move from over there, Harry. Okay?'

'Yup, mummy.' Harry mumbled, tiredly, eyes already starting to close.

'Good boy. Mummy's just going to talk to some people and tell them we're at Uncle Sirius's, okay?'

'Okay! Where Daddy?'

Half closed, green eyes locked with her own wide ones. Lily's lip trembled, trying to contain herself; she could not break down now.

'He's sleeping, my love...'

But the infant had already drifted off to sleep by the time she had finished her sentence.

Sighing in resignation, Lily sniffed and wiped her eyes before any tears could fall. She then turned back to the fire, which was connected to the Floo network. She put her head into the green flames and looked for Albus Dumbledore. The Headmaster was inside his office, pacing uneasily, talking to the previous Headmasters' paintings.

'Professor Dumbledore!' She exclaimed, wasting no time.

All eyes moved to her and Dumbledore froze in his tracks. His omniscient blue eyes twinkled with bemusement, but his voice was one of caution.

'Lily Potter?'

'Yes! Yes, Professor! It's me! Voldemort attacked our house. He came for us! No time...'

'Lily! Lily, it's all right. Is Harry okay – did you get him out?'

'Yes! Harry's alive, I got him out in time; we escaped. We're at Sirius's safe house. But James...' She felt a lump in her throat, unable finish her sentence; a tear reluctantly escaped and landed with a sizzle on the fire.

'You shouldn't be there, Mrs Potter!' blurted one of the paintings. 'Sirius Black is the traitor, who is currently in custody. Who knows which of his associates resides in the area. You have to evacuate at once!'

'No! You don't understand! Sirius isn't the traitor. Please, Sir. I can't apparate with Harry. I need to talk to you in person!'

'I'll open the Floo network properly.' Dumbledore answered, the usual sparkle in his serene, blue eyes was gone, and replaced with a certain hardness that made her uneasy. 'By the time you gather Harry, the network will be open. We'll see you shortly.'

Lily threw herself back, landing ungracefully onto the dusty carpet. She shook the dust off her and and sprinted over to the sofa, where she shrunk Sirius's scrapbook and shoved it in her pocket hastily, before scooping Harry into her arms and placing him back in the papoose. The infant was so exhausted he didn't stir once.

Lily sighed slowly and marched to the fireplace, one last time. She extinguished the fire and grabbed a handful of Floo powder.

'Headmaster Albus Dumbledore's office!'

The journey had made her dizzy, and had woken Harry from his slumber. The infant's cries turned into echoes as they bounced off the walls of the office. Several paintings on the walls had shrunk away in their frames, covering their ears at her child's cries, huffing. Lily was ready to give them a piece of her mind, but then her eyes moved to Dumbledore, who was more sympathetic than his predecessors. He looked at Lily, his smile never reaching his eyes.

'I'm so sorry for your loss, Lily.'

Hearing those words from Dumbledore had solidified the fact that Lily had deflected to acknowledge all night: James was dead. She managed to hold back a sob, but sunk to her knees, cradling her son to her chest, protectively. She refused to break down in front of Harry.

'We'll be fine, Professor.'

Despite the blatant lie, Dumbledore did not pry further; however, he glided over and crouched down next to her. He placed an old, but firm hand on her shoulder in comfort.

'It's all right, Lily.' He soothed, 'Sirius will be reprimanded for what he has done-'

'IT WASN'T SIRIUS THAT KILLED JAMES!' Lily screeched, her fuse breaking under pressure. She sighed, squeezing her eyes shut tightly. 'Sirius didn't betray us... It was Peter... It was Peter...'

'Peter?' Dumbledore shook his head. 'Lily, Sirius was the secret keeper..'

'No, you don't understand!' Lily exclaimed, irritably. 'Sirius and Peter switched at the last minute. Only James and I knew. Neither of us thought it was a good idea, but Sirius thought that Remus was the spy. I told him he was being ridiculous, but he insisted. It was all Peter. He was the secret keeper. He betrayed us...' She paused, opened her emerald eyes and stared into Dumbledore's sapphire ones, harshly. 'He killed James and he tried to kill my one year old baby!'

'That cannot be plausible, surely, Dumbledore? She's filled with grief!'

Dumbledore hummed. 'If there's one thing I know about Lily Potter, it's that she would never condemn someone who was innocent. I believe she's telling the truth.'

Lily scoffed, no mirth behind her laugh. 'Thanks, Sir. Now, I'd appreciate it if you stopped talking about me as if I cant hear what you're saying.' She wasn't asking, she was telling them; voice firm, despite the grief that lingered there.

'My sincerest apologies, Lily.' Dumbledore said, repentantly. 'I should have known better.'

The other portrait begrudgingly agreed. Lily noticed he was wearing velvet robes of forest green, and had an old face. His jawline was angular, despite the fact that his face sagged slightly, as a result of age; his heavy lidded, misty grey eyes had large bags below them, but had a hint of familiarity in them that Lily recognised immediately. All members of the Black family had them. Phineas Nigellus Black.

'Nevertheless, Dumbledore,' The aforementioned spoke, 'we must inform the Ministry of Mrs Potter and Master Potter's survival... And my cousin's supposed innocence.'

'Agreed, Phineas.' Dumbledore replied, not once looking away from Lily; their eyes still locked upon each other. 'Would you come to the Ministry with me, Lily, to liberate Sirius?'

Lily was sceptical, 'Harry's not leaving me.'

'Never, I promise.'

After staring into the old wizard's eyes, searching for a lie, she looked away.

She nodded.

* * *

'Get off me now, you filthy monster!'

An unhinged cackle echoed off the cave walls.

'We're all monsters here, you thief!'

 _If that ain't the truth..._

Remus withdrew into himself, further away from the chaos that was going on a few meters away from him. One werewolf had decided to steal the remaining leg of a rabbit that the other had caught the day previously. As an obvious consequence of this, the two werewolves were fighting, shoving each other, while shouting in each other's faces.

'What's going on there?'

The rough voice silenced the feral sounds. The werewolves immediately separated from each other, retreating into opposite corners. Remus buried his head further into his patched cloak. Only his eyes were exposed, as he observed Greyback walking over to the two werewolves. He was tall and muscular, with long, shaggy black hair that fell to his waist. His clothes were light: a faded brown t-shirt and ripped knee-high shorts. He walked with a certain authority, as the rest of the pack shied away from him; his alpha role made all the more dominant.

Remus maintained his position, but still, he could not take his eyes off of Fenir. Dumbledore had given him a misson: find out what Voldemort is planning on using the werewolves for. Remus had lost everyone in the war following that mission; no one trusted him. He wasn't going to fail his mission now. He had to admit he was terrified though – seeing the monster that bit him when he was five years old was enough to make any werewolf quiver at the sight of him – Remus had just numbed this terror. One could not afford to show any type of emotion in the cave; otherwise their fate would be similar to what was about to happen.

'I said,' Fenir hissed, 'What's going on here!'

'I was starving!' The thief exclaimed, standing up. 'There's no food down here – all we get is scraps! You go hunt every day with five others, but you never bring back enough. We're stuck down here dying!' He pointed an accusatory finger at Remus, 'Yesterday I saw Romulus eat a rat.'

Remus's eyes widened at the direct address. Remus stood up, no longer able to hide away from the situation that was playing out in front of him.

'Yes, I did. I did not steal the rat though; I caught it. A man steals, a wolf works for their food.' He defended, hating every word that was coming out of his mouth.

Greyback scoffed with mirth, growling roughly in the back of his throat. He turned to look Remus, taking in the sight of him. Remus felt naked, as the alpha's eyes scanned his unhealthily skinny frame, from his mop of unwashed, dirty blonde hair that reached his shoulders, to his patched cloak – which Remus had deliberately thrown over his shoulders to expose his ripped burgundy jumper and shorts, to avert suspicion – to his rough, bare feet covered in soil and grazes.

'Good answer. Romulus, was it?'

Remus did not like the twinkle of amusement in Greyback's eyes; they hinted that he knew everything. Nevertheless, Remus stood his ground and stared at Greyback in those cold, merciless eyes.

'Yes, Sir.'

Fenir cackled from the back of his throat, eliciting a growling noise, which made the other werewolves tremble. He turned away from Remus and faced the two werewolves.

'He calls me Sir, as if I was a man! I confess though, I like Sir.' He licked his lips, hungrily. 'You, thief! You want this wolf's food?'

'Yes! Please!'

'What about you?' He turned to the other werewolf, who had caught the rabbit originally, 'You want this wolf to have your rabbit?'

'Of course not!'

There was a silence.

'Then you will fight to the death for it. Whoever is alive at the end gets the rabbit.' Fenir bared his fangs when he grinned. 'You start now.'

While the other hesitated, the thief ran for him, wasting no time in digging his nails into the werewolf's face. Remus sat back down. He was not looking at the fight, but instead at Greyback, who was staring at the match with morbid entertainment. Disgusted, albeit unsurprised, Remus turned back to the fight. The thief was bleeding from the mouth, but whether it was his own blood, or the other werewolf's, Remus could not fathom. They gripped each other close, as they tumbled to the ground, biting and clawing at each other; snarling, as if they were more wolf than human.

Maybe they were, thought Remus.

The fight lasted no more than ten minutes before the thief laid at the victor's feet, unmoving and dead. The other werewolf was panting, shoulders hunched, gripping his neck, where there was a substantial amount of blood pouring out and down his savaged clothing.

Greyback starting clapping, alone. He motioned for the others to join in, instigating an applause to fill the cave and deafen all ears.

'Well done, son!' Greyback exclaimed, 'You have earnt your rabbit, but what has happened to our neck? It looks badly injured.' He looked around, 'Is anyone here capable of dressing this young wolf's wound?'

No one even flinched. 'A pity.'

Without even looking at him, Greyback swung his arm, and with sharpened nails, slit the werewolf's throat. He fell to the floor, on top on the thief, a pile of blood and dirt.

'You complain that you are starving, well, here is food for you.' He had the audacity to look proud of himself.

Remus never knew either of the dead werewolf's names. They were nothing. In this chess game between Voldemort and Dumbledore, there are no names, only those with power, and those that are dead.

'A new age is dawning!' Greyback stated, so loud that the entire pack could hear his words. 'From tomorrow onwards we will be more than wolves, starving and alone. By dawn we will have all the flesh we want, and the Dark Lord will have nothing to stand in his way. The weak will die, but the strongest will survive. Why?'

Remus could have sworn Fenir caught his eye, before the alpha answered his own question.

'Because the Potter's will be dead by dawn.'

* * *

AN: **This is currently unbeta-ed, but I will amend any mistakes by the end of the week.**  
 **I hoped you enjoyed the first chapter! It's not that focused on Harry's Sherlock-ness, but this fic will be long and so it will take us through Harry's journey ("this is only the beginning" ;))**  
 **Reviews muchly appreciated!  
Peace and Love :)**


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